


trust

by lenardo_09



Category: Apex Legends (Video Games)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-31
Updated: 2020-07-31
Packaged: 2021-03-05 22:48:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,494
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25623169
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lenardo_09/pseuds/lenardo_09
Summary: Trust was a hard thing to earn, especially when one's very flesh is scarred by those who have broken it.
Relationships: Crypto | Park Tae Joon & Bloodhound, Crypto | Park Tae Joon & Makoa Gibraltar, Crypto | Park Tae Joon & Mirage | Elliott Witt, Crypto | Park Tae Joon & Pathfinder
Comments: 3
Kudos: 29





	trust

**Author's Note:**

> Sometimes, it's okay to platonically be there for your bro and make him learn to trust again through intimate actions that have no romantic intent behind them

Hazel optics shifted over to the apple placed upon the workbench beside him, a shiny red fruit that looked rather delectable, especially now, when he hadn't eaten all day. His gaze turned to who had placed it down, meeting the sight of a familiar mask. 

They weren't particularly social, much like Park himself, but there was an air about them that helped the hacker relax, made his tense shoulders fall and the knitted brows melt away. Bloodhound was a gentle presence that was neither loud nor insistent, but being around them didn't bring loneliness nor discomfort. They made the hacker feel at peace with simply being beside him. 

Park rarely felt kinship with the other legends. He knows they've suffered their own travesties, of loss and resentment, but he couldn't quite connect with them, couldn't empathize. He felt more in common with the hunter, able to understand their loss, able to relate to the pain of loneliness. The stories were different, but there was a mutual understanding, and no words ever needed to be exchanged between them. 

A half-synthetic hand reaches out to grasp the apple, lifting it up, before taking a bite from it. A satisfying crunch followed, humming. 

“Tasty.”

“I've more if you desire them, vinur minn.”

The technician nodded, the hunter casting one more gaze to him, before they left to work on their own gear, leaving Park to fret over every line of code and every wire on his bench. He could faintly hear the other begin working intently on their own tech, pulling apart their scanner and using the various tools they gathered to work on it. 

The faint sound of wings flapping didn't bother the hacker any, not even when there was a sudden weight on his shoulder. Artur perched upon his shoulder, he watched quietly as the hacker worked, every shiny thing that appeared on screen catching his attention. The crunch of the man he used as a perch's apple also caught his attention, and Park almost laughed; such an easily distracted creature. 

— ;;

Elliott's eyes drifted open when there was a quiet knock at his door. One glance to the clock indicated it was two in the morning, and, with a yawn, he'd rise from bed, tossing his blankets off and grabbing a shirt from the floor. It’d been carelessly tossed on the floor alongside his pants, having just come home from interviews, a day out with Renee and Octavio, and helping Natalie with some things in the workshop. Normally, he'd rather not have articles of clothes littering his floor (unless there was a… “guest”), but he made an exception just because he was exhausted. 

Opening his door, he wasn't surprised to see Tae Joon standing at the door, an oversized hoodie swamping his frame, hands stuffed in his pockets, and refusing eye contact. This was a sight the trickster saw frequently, waking up to a gentle knock—never forceful nor impatient—and answering the door to Park standing there, dark circles under his eyes and silent as a mouse. 

This agreement had come to light upon Elliott discovering the hacker in the kitchen at four in the morning, making coffee with shaky hands. He apparently heard Elliott's footsteps, because, once he grew close enough, Park swung around, eyes wide, like a startled woodland creature. Apparently, the kid had pretty intense nightmares that plagued him during his slumber, and, if they were especially bad, he couldn't go back to sleep and opted to try and start working on his gear or whatever it is he did on his laptop (Elliott never bothered asking; seemed like something best left alone). 

But Elliott was still worried, asked if he could do anything to help, and Park had shrugged his shoulders, because the kid wasn't knowledgeable on a damn thing pertaining to trusting someone enough to let them see him at his most vulnerable. It took some effort, some brainstorming, and a lot of trial and error, but they eventually learned the hacker was actually quite fond of touch—though only from Elliott, apparently. Likely had to do with the fact that he was one of the few Park actively trusted, but they'll take it. 

They quickly learned the best way to calm down the technician was simply to lay him down and hold him. It put him at ease, knowing someone was there with him, the added warmth of someone beside or behind him lulling him into peaceful slumber. He still has nightmares, even during said arrangement, but it was still a work in progress. 

Wordlessly, Elliott moved aside, letting himself smile, hoping it would alleviate the hacker's anxiety a bit. It did. 

He moved inside, always quiet and quick, and the engineer shut the door behind him. They moved to the bed together, Elliott first followed by Park. Today seemed like a small nightmare, just one that troubled the hacker enough to want contact, because he laid down, facing Elliott. He didn't have to ask for the other to do anything, a sun-kissed arm already moving to carefully wrap around the hacker's waist, pulling him closer. 

He heard Park breathe out a quiet sigh, letting his eyes fall shut, before, slowly, his breathing evened out and Elliott was sure he was asleep. Soon, the engineer joined him. 

— ;;

Makoa Gibraltar was known for a lot of things. He was a beast in the ring, a protector, a force to be reckoned with, but he was also a friend in the most arduous moments in his friend's lives, acting as a place of solace and safety. He's been confided in many times, and he won't deny he's gathered quite a bit of knowledge on his fellow competitors, but he hadn't a malicious bone in his body: the information was safe, like a one-way piggy bank. He also heard he gives some of the best hugs on the drop ship (second place went to Elliott, and the man was almost mad, but not many could find it in themselves to be mad at everyone's favorite gentle giant). 

Today, during one foggy, dreary morning, Makoa found himself in the company of Tae Joon, the hacker carrying one bag of groceries as Makoa held the rest. Park had protested, saying he could carry a few bags, but the shield had refused, saying he'd gladly carry the heavier bags. There was no use in arguing, since he was as stubborn as he was kind. 

Makoa had simply been shopping, picking up a few parts he needed to repair his bike, simple parts he could find just about anywhere, when he (literally) ran into Park, toppling the poor man and making him drop the sketchbooks and pencils he'd been holding. Makoa was quick to help, apologizing for knocking him over and pulling him up. The fortress was allowed to stick around, and they talked for awhile—well, more specifically, Makoa talked and Park listened. Makoa talked about the repairs he needed to do on his bike, and, though it was completely lost on the hacker, more familiar with computers and the like, he was a good listener and asked occasional questions and nodded along the entire time. He was quiet, but he was good company. 

Eventually, the protector had gently nudged the smaller male, catching his attention. 

"'Ey, I've been talkin' about myself the entire time. What's goin' on with ya?"

At that, he shrugged. Makoa never got much out of him. 

"Nothing noteworthy. Why?"

"Ya just seem down, brotha. Or… excited? Just a little hard to tell."

That earned him a smile, small but there. "Is that so…"

"Ya've just been out of it. Usually, when I see ya, you're workin' hard or lookin' like everyone's here to hurt ya. Nowadays, ya end up starin' off into space and not really respondin' much. Just a little worried, is all."

The hacker shrugged, his smile fading. Nervous. "It's nothing."

"Ya know I don't buy that for a second," Makoa said gently, "but I'm not gonna push ya if it's somethin' ya don't wanna talk about."

For a moment, Park was silent. He didn't speak, just stared at the ground. Makoa knew how he worked. Interrogating him wouldn't help much. Pushing him into talking would just distance the man until he thought he was safe from intrusive questions. Just waiting patiently for him to speak was his best bet. If he decided to explain, he would. If he didn't want to, he wouldn't; it was his decision, not Makoa's. 

Eventually, the hacker spoke again, his voice a mere whisper this time. 

"Someone I thought died… didn't, apparently." The way he spoke was somber, like he was trying to remain stoic, maintain that façade he was so adamant about keeping up. "I received a transmission from them a little bit ago… I'm… processing, I suppose."

It certainly sounded like a lot to process. Makoa barely knew anything about the man—then again, no one did. He was about as easy to read as chicken scratch when it was written on wet paper. That didn't mean Makoa was about to give up on him anytime soon, because absolutely no one deserved to suffer alone. 

"Talk to me," the walking fortress said, shooting the smaller male a bright smile that rivaled the brightest star. "I'm here for ya, brotha."

The technician nodded faintly, looking up finally, into those welcoming orbs of the taller. "Okay… I'll try."

"Good. I hear I'm a pretty good listener, brotha."

"Better than me?"

"Never better than you, Hyeon."

— ;;

"Thanks. Cool hardware."

"I could say the same about yours."

Park grimaced for possibly the tenth time that match. He has heard twenty times more innuendo from Andrade's mouth than Elliott's when he was shit-faced during that party Park had been  _ begged _ to attend. He could handle dick jokes, because Elliott wasn't flirting with him and had no intentions of forcing him into uncomfortable situations. Every time Park opened his mouth, Loba had something loaded up that just made the hacker uncomfortable or mildly annoyed. He feels like she was attempting to get him talking through his pants. 

Too bad for her, he was about as interested in any form of sex as much as an insect was interested in hanging around a bird. 

He hadn't had a single opportunity to drone out either, and they'd been ambushed by two squads because of it. The thief had brushed it off, seeing as the three of them had managed to beat both, but it resulted in their third getting downed and Loba nearly getting finished off. He couldn't trust her to stay if he decided to drone out, and their third didn't need to babysit. 

Speaking of their third…

"You look upset, friend!"

Tae Joon's eyes fell to where Pathfinder was beside him, the automation having moved next to him where he'd been looting a supply bin. He was friendly, upbeat, and didn't have a mean… pipe in his… frame. Park could trust him with anything. The MRVN socialized frequently, but he was also one of the best at keeping secrets. 

"Apologies if I seem angry."

"It is okay, friend! I just don't like seeing you angry! You're always angry!"

Park almost laughed at that; Pathfinder had a point—if he wasn't angry, he was mildly annoyed, and if he wasn't mildly annoyed, he was expressionless, keeping his emotions in a jar and letting the negative feelings fester. 

"I simply wish Andrade wouldn't be so…"

"Fast?"

"Mmhm."

Pathfinder's screen became question marks, a mechanical hum leaving the MRVN. It became a smiley face soon after. "I've got an idea! What if I pick you up and—"

"Ahni. My issue isn't that I'm slow—just she refuses to let me recon."

"Oh… It could still work! I could carry you as you drone out!"

The hacker huffed out a quiet laugh, moving to the next supply bin to inspect its contents. "Well, perhaps."

"I promise not to drop you."

"I trust you won't, Pathfinder."

Park thought the conversation had ended there—up until Pathfinder had suddenly lifted the hacker into his arms, startling a yelp out of him. The MRVN was just holding him, like a child, as if he weighed nothing to him, which technically wasn't untrue since Pathfinder was, in fact, a robot. Still, it was a bit… embarrassing. 

"You can drone out now, friend! I'll keep you safe!"

A half-synthetic hand came up to cover his face, a sigh leaving him, though not out of irritation. It was more out of humor, about how ridiculous he felt. 

"Okay, Pathfinder. Just don't drop me."

"I won't! You can count on me, friend!"

— ;;

Park didn't trust many people. It was something so easily broken, and he'd had it shattered so many times before. He was tired of trusting someone only for them to betray it with a knife in his back. The scars that litter his skin, and the remnants of his faith lay fragmented before him, all served as painful reminders that he can't just let anyone in. 

But he's slowly learning to let others in again. He's learned to trust and learned to be someone others can trust. Bloodhound occasionally received a bag of berries in front of their quarters, and they'd indulge in the treat, Artur enjoying alongside them. Elliott found someone to seek comfort in during nights of self-resentment, when his mother was forgetting her only remaining son, and when the stress of being "Mirage" was just too much. Makoa found someone to speak to during the days he missed his boyfriend, when he didn't want someone to say "I'm sorry." Pathfinder got a friend to do arts and crafts with, making clay pots and doing oil paintings and even learning the basics of traditional art. 

Tae Joon Park couldn't trust many, but those he did trust were special. They were allowed a lot many others weren't. They didn't get soft smiles, gentle laughs, and his dry humor. They didn't get to hear his stories and see that fond look in his eyes, weren't allowed that side of him. He wasn't all fierce glares and curt statements. He had his moments, but, in the end, he was yet another unfortunate soul whose life had been taken away by careless hands. 

He was slowly gathering the shattered remnants of his old life, piece by piece, and he was grateful for every moment of safety he was given in the presence of those he trusted. 

Tae Joon's eyes fell to where his cat was laying, sleeping away the world, as if it didn't exist. His partner in crime, the little creature he trusted with his darkest, most confidential secret. 

The hacker leaned a little closer, synthetic fingertips dancing along the soft fur of his sweet cat. 

"I secretly like those cliché movies Elliott and Makoa keep making me watch," he whispered, and his cat puffed out a breath; he knew his secret would be safe. 


End file.
